Shards
by RaisedOnRadio
Summary: A collection of short stories featuring Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: The Crystal Bearers. / Most likely complete unless they come out with a sequel.
1. The Wedding

A collection of short stories of Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: The Crystal Bearers.

Title: The Wedding  
Character: Althea  
Word Count: 824

Notes: My first fanfiction. No prompt that started it.

* * *

"You may now kiss the bride."

Before Layle could respond, Belle threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a full blown kiss.

Althea watched with a bemused expression. She could see the same look on Keiss' face.

*.*

She fought to keep her smile. Althea had cared for Layle, but it was not love. It was more thankfulness to the man who had saved her and the world she knew. Besides, she was a queen, and he was a free spirited crystal bearer. Of which she was no longer.

Belle and Layle suited each other. Belle was able to draw out the more cheerful side of Layle, while he was able to convince her to be serious. Once in a while.

The wedding had been small. This was Layle's doing, Belle had wanted to invite all four kingdoms. The wedding was held outside, with chairs pulled up in a church like setting. There were flowers everywhere. Althea picked up a white daisy. It matched her simple dress of peach tones.

A few years into her reign, Althea knew she had to be looking for a suitable husband. She had prospects, but none said love. Do queens have time to find love?

*.*

She had not left her chair, but most of the guests had. They broke up into clusters of conversation and laughter. She watched Keiss talking to a couple of older Selkies. Her gaze trailed over him. When she realized what she was doing, her eyes snapped down and studied the flower.

*.*

Yes, a suitable husband. A Lilty. An Older Lilty. Or a Yuke, that would serve her right for eyeing up one of her former colonels!

*.*

Keiss had slipped into the royal army, purchased a good position, and then turned down the high commander occupation because she was giving it to him!

But she had enjoyed having him around, she realized. His mentality was different from the people she had grown up with. For a warrior race, the Lilties were a stiff tribe ruled by customs and traditions. Selkies were a wild emotional group, almost borderline primitive at times compared to the Clavats and Lilties.

*.*

How upset her other colonels had been when Keiss was promoted! Althea remembered that they tried to get him to conform to the dress code and remove the thick beads from his hair. It made her smile for Keiss had won in the end. This had irritated the higher ranking (but shorter in stature) officers. At the time the council could care less.

*.*

She heard a chair creak and jumped when she realized someone was sitting next to her.

It was Keiss.

He wore a pair of dark slacks and a loose cream shirt. And he still had those beads in his hair. She guessed it was the closest to a Selkie dressed up.

*.*

"A coin for your thoughts, My Queen?"

"I think they would cost more than that." She added, "Since you're not part of the royal army any more, you do not have to address me like that."

"It was a requirement of your guards, before I, as they put it, 'bothered you'."

She knew her guards stood along the tree line, out of sight but not out of mind. She realized they must, in general, still trust Keiss.

*.*

He flipped a coin in the air and placed it in her palm. "A piece of your thoughts then."

The truth? Why not? "I was thinking about you."

"...and that is the only piece you are going to give me?"

"I told you, my thoughts are expensive."

He laughed. He was handsome, she mused. Not like a Clavat but something completely different. And a lot taller than most Lilties.

"Do you dance?" he asked her.

"Only the waltz."

He stood up and offered her his hand. "I could teach you one of my native dances." Althea smiled inwardly at the thought of trying one of the sensual dances the Selkies favored.

"My guards might have a heart attack, and I'm not going to be very good." But she took his hand.

He gently removed the flower that was still clenched in her other hand and tucked it in her hair. "We can fix that."

*.*

Instead of going to the dancing clearing that was full of couples, he led her to the open space in front of the chairs and before the altar. One hand holding hers and the other on her waist, he counted the steps out loud as he practiced them with her. Her pulse quickened as he spun her.

Maybe she had been looking too hard.

He was a Selkie and she was a Lilty. It was the difference between the Waltz and the Tango.

But she wasn't going to let the notion die just yet. Maybe high commander had not been good enough for him. Perhaps standing beside her would.

And she certainly was not going to "give" it to him easily.

*.*

-fin-


	2. Messing up Vaigali's Name

Prompt: Who?  
Title: Messing up Vaigali's Name

Character: Layle

Word Count: 274

Notes: I did not have the subtitles on for the game the first time I played. Inspired by the first time I heard…misheard the Guildmaster's name.

* * *

Layle came up to the large, grounded ship that he was told was the Selkie guild headquarters. Far different from the castles of royalty the Clavats and Lilties had.

"Excuse me," he said, touching a passing girl on the shoulder. She had long, dark red hair, and wore short shorts and a low cut shirt that bared her midriff. Overall, she was not wearing much of anything. Layle could probably get used to that, but right now he had to stick to business.

"I need to talk to the Guildmaster," he continued, ignoring her openly looking him over. Sensing his rejection, she pursed her lips in irritation.

She pointed down a ladder. Knowing she was done with him, but having one more question, he asked, "What's the current Guildmaster's name?"

"By Golly," she said.

"What?"

"By. Golly."

"Oh." Selkies had strange names. He considered asking hers, but not wanting to act interested, he changed his mind.

After many ladders, twists, turns and hallways, Layle found the main room. The Guildmaster was a huge man. He wore mismatched pieces of armor and had thick, wiry red hair. Were there any blonde Selkies?

"By Golly!" Layle greeted him. "I have a business proposal for you..." Layle trailed off when he saw the blank look on the master's face and the horrified expressions on his guards.

Damn, what did he do now?

Suddenly the Guildmaster laughed.

"By Golly!" He boomed. "What strange greetings Clavats have!"

"I am Vaigali," he said, reaching forward to shake Layle's hand.

Layle took it, dazed.

Vaigali, huh? That girl was going to get it if he ever met up with her again.


	3. Cid

Word Count: 390

Character: Cid

Inspiration: Coming up with a theory why many of the Lilty appearances changed in this game, while the other races did not.

* * *

The young Lilty, who goes by the name of Clee, was lost in Bridge Town. Seeking to work for the engineer Cid, Clee had heard finding the shop was half the battle.

Clee sat on a step before a looming building that looked the same as all the others in Bridge Town. He didn't like the shifty looks the people passing by gave him. He truly was in the slums. Maybe he should just go home.

*.*

"You lost, kupo?" Clee looked up to see a concerned Moogle hovering over him. Clee nodded.

Clee ducked his head when a Lilty shuffled past. His skin looked thin and dry like paper. There was a faint odor of onions.

"You should not fear, kupo. Cid looks like that too."

"But why?" Clee burst out. "They tell me it's what happens when a Lilty gets old, but neither my parents, nor my grandparents look like that."

The Moogle shook its head. "The ancient Lilties never looked like that. Sure you've evolved a bit...I think you're a little taller now, kupo. But all the races have changed a little bit."

The Moogle got quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"No, the onion look, which is what they seemed to be called now, is a self inflicted punishment, kupo. The Lilties love to fight, yes? Well, not all. But sometimes you were required to fight anyway, kupo. The last battle, when the Yukes Crystal was destroyed, hurt many Lilties deep in their souls. So they have changed slowly, physically. Their bodies are too weak to fight now, if a call to arms ever comes again, kupo."

"But it was not enough for Cid," Clee realized out loud. "He must have felt responsible, being the creator of the reactors, which made war much more widespread than before."

"Yes, kupo. Now he lives in the slums, trying to help the less fortunate, kupo."

Clee looked down at his hands. The skin was soft and smooth, like the Lilties of old. He felt a sadness for what his forefathers had did, a feeling he had never given thought to before. He would like to help the people of the slums too.

The Moogle looked behind Clee. "You sit at the door of his shop, kupo. Go in, I think he will be glad to work with the likes of you."


	4. Hot Peppers

Title: Hot Peppers

Prompt: Food

Character: Keiss

Word Count: 135

Notes: I think this is the shortest thing I've ever written.

* * *

When Keiss saw the small leather pouch was empty, he sighed.

Someone had stolen his peppers. Again.

It probably was Sessar. Or Lackson. Lackson ejoyed pushing friendly rivalry one step too far.

It wasn't like Keiss had broadcasted about the small, dried hot peppers smuggled from his homeland. But someone was bound to find out. Someone realized the Selkie never complained about the bland food Lilties favored. Someone found out about the peppers.

Yes, it had to be Lackson.

It would be months before Keiss could pick up more peppers. But he would make sure to pick up an extra for Lackson. Maybe Keiss would even add it to Lackson's food for him, since he seemed to enjoy them so much.

Yes, just friendly rivalry. At least they hadn't tried to poison his food.

Yet.


	5. Reason for Keiss being an outcast

Character: Came out as Vaigali's point of view.

Word Count: 392

Prompt: Reason for Keiss being an outcast.

* * *

"Working for Lilties!" Vaigali roared, spittle spraying Keiss in the face. He didn't flinch. They stood in the main room of the Guild, guards flanking Keiss in case he tried to run away.

*.*

Keiss, age seventeen, had been caught for what in Vaigali's eyes was a serious offense: working as a shuttle and escort service for Lilty nobles. Vaigali had impounded the youth's airship but the boy was not cowering.

"What do you think to gain, boy?"

"They pay well," Keiss said firmly.

"You should be keeping business within your homeland!"

"Selkies prefer to walk!" Keiss shot back, finally raising his own voice to be heard over Vaigali. "Lilties like being carted around."

"It has to stop. That is all I'm asking." Vaigali thought he was being more than reasonable.

Keiss folded his arms. "I want my ship back."

"And then what?"

"I'll get out of your face."

The boy was serious. Vaigali was startled, but didn't show it.

"Oh really?" he said gruffly. "How so?"

"I'll go live with the Lilties."

The guards shifted and whispered. Viagali glared at them.

"What a grand ambition!" He chuckled. "Next you'll be joining their army! In one swift motion, Viagali reached out and backhanded Keiss across the cheek. Keiss tumbled back and the guards caught him before he fell.

"Embarrassment to the Guild!" Vaigali said. "They will treat you like dirt there."

Keiss' lip was bleeding. He choked out, "An embarrassment to the Guild is a master who prevents all the Selkies from working with a neighboring nation because they insulted him in his youth!"

Vaigali lunged at him, but Keiss ducked this time. The guards stepped back, anticipating a fight. However Keiss was already backing away. He knew his limits.

"Just give me my ship," he pleaded.

"You should have thought of that before you..." Insulted me? The kid was right. Oh, Vaigali was going to kill him.

But Keiss was out the door.

"I never want to see your face around here again, boy!" Vaigali called down the hallway.

"You will when I'm high commander of the Lilty army!" was the reply.

Vaigali let him go. Like that could ever happen.

*.*

At least Keiss kept the promise of staying away. It was eight years before Vaigali came face to face with him again. As a Colonel in the Lilty Royal Army.


	6. Keiss and Layle's First Meeting

Character: Keiss

Word Count: 473

Prompt: Keiss and Layle's first meeting.

* * *

Keiss eased open the door to Cid's shop as slowly as possible. It still creaked. You'd think nothing would squeak in an engineer's shop.

Keiss was relieved when Cid was not in the main room of the store. He would have a moment to rinse the blood off his face and inspect the damage.

He made his way to the small sink in the corner and winced at his reflection in the mirror. There was a slice along one cheekbone, and the blood stain on his headband meant one by the hairline. If there was blood in his hair, it was the same color.

"That you Keiss?" Cid's voice came from upstairs.

"Yeah..." Keiss answered, pulling off his headscarf to use as a rag.

"Be down in a minute."

Good. Keiss turned on the sink and clenched his teeth as he cleaned out the cuts. At least the would-be thieves had left with their own wounds.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Keiss looked up and saw Cid in the mirror, hands on his hips.

"Tripped on the way here."

Past Cid was a blonde man coming down the stairs. Keiss was reminded of why he was here in the first place. Keiss had been looking to branch out to a partner in the escort business and Cid had asked him to meet someone he had in mind. However, there had been a rash of pirate cases and Keiss was looking for a type of bodyguard, not this thin, lanky Clavat that looked younger than him.

Cid took Keiss' shoulder and turned him around, peering into his face. "That's a knife wound."

"Possibly."

"Keiss..."

"Alright." Keiss turned back to the sink. "My question for you is do all your local pickpockets pull their knives first, ask questions later, or is that reserved for traveling Selkies?"

Cid did not answer. Instead he said, "I think that needs stitches."

"I agree with that," the young man said. Keiss growled under his breath. He looked up to say something sharp to the Clavat, but the words didn't come for once when he saw the crystal mark on the other man's cheek.

"I think you should have let the thieves leave with the coins instead of pulling out your knife," Cid continued.

"I'm a Selkie. My coins are important," Keiss said. A Crystal Bearer? Nobody would hire a crystal bearer. But he would be the perfect bodyguard, he argued with himself. He didn't have to let the customers know.

"This is Layle," Cid said, giving up on the last subject. "He's interested in a job."

"For how long?"

"Until something better comes along," Layle replied.

"I was looking for someone physically bigger."

"I think you will be pleased with my services."

"Can you handle yourself in a fight?" Keiss questioned.

"Looks like better than you can."

Ouch. Keiss had found someone with a sharper tongue that his own. "I can see he's going to be trouble, Cid. But we'll give it a shot."


	7. Althea

The elderly Lilty guard stood at his post under the window. The hallway was a little used bypass at the back of the castle. He held up a pocket watch, keeping a note on the time.

A booted leg appeared in the window, then another. They were followed by a young Liltie woman, who pulled herself up and through. She wore a pair of tight pants and a vest over her shirt. Her light pink hair was pulled back and small spectacles rested on her nose. She looked like she belonged in the local library except for the mud she was splattered with.

Without making eye contact, the guard said, "You have less than five minutes to make it to your meeting, Lady Althea."

"Ah yes," she said. "Just a little behind schedule."

"You are lucky you do not have any siblings to tattle on you."

"I know." She smiled at him, and then dusted the excess dirt from her clothes. He was her closest friend in the guard. He had been serving her personally for many years.

"Where were you this time, if I might ask?"

"Chocobo racing."

"Do your companions suspect...?"

"Oh no. They think I'm Thayla from out of town."

"I like the glasses. They add a nice touch."

"Yes, but they keep slipping off my nose."

*.*

Five minutes was too close, she admitted to herself later when she arrived late for the meeting with her Father and Jegran. It took too long the change into proper attire for a princess.

Her father smiled wanly when she came in. She could not read Jegran's expression as usual. She always felt he was undressing her with his eyes or dissecting her. Either way sent shudders down her back.

The council said behind closed doors that her father was fading mentally. The high commander was the first to go when she became queen.

"Jegran will be supervising the move of the Alexis in a few days," the king said softly.

Althea knew this, but she did not bother to correct her father.

"Have you hired an escort service Jegran?"

"Yes," he said in his deep voice. "I have chosen differently that you suggested. The Selkie Keiss has had no encounters with pirates over the last few months. I think he will do fine."

She stewed over this development. She had chosen a fine escort and he picked another just to undermine her.

"May I see the contract?"

Jegran slid it across the table to her. She glanced over it.

"What does it mean, Keiss plus one?"

"He works with another that serves as a guard."

Hmm. She didn't like the wording. It felt shifty to her. But it was no matter. Let Jegran deal with his decision.

"My princess, is that dirt on your cheek?" Jegran said, slowly meeting her eyes.

Scum. He knew. No more racing for a while.

She hoped the Alexis fell out of the sky with him on it.


	8. Prompt: Yellow

Prompt: Yellow

Notes: Playing with the concept of Layle's parents.

Word Count: 702

* * *

Lecta strayed away from her older sister Lesslee, who was once again pouring over fabric she did not need. Lecta was in her late teens, with Lesslee a few years older. Out visiting family, the coast was a wild and magical place compared to their home in the capital city.

The street fair they were stopped at enthralled Lecta. Each booth held something new and exotic. While still in Clavat territory, the sea and roads brought many people through. The colors of the fabric her sister was looking at were so bright that their mother would have a fit. She would make reference to something that Selkies wear.

Lecta sighed with disappointment when she came to the last booth. It was still interesting, full of paintings large and small. The owner of the booth sat in the corner with paints and a blank canvas. He didn't look up when she came in.

She stopped in front of one. It was of a cobblestone road, with two story building of each side. "This one reminds me of the street I grew up on," she told him.

She started when he looked up, and through her. He couldn't see her. She had mistaken him for the artist.

He stood up and shuffled towards her. "Which one?"

She pointed, and then blushed at her mistake. "This one."

He reached out and stroked the highs and lows of the painting. The fingertips of one hand were coated in silver paint, but it must have been dry since it did not affect the painting.

"Oh yes, I liked this one too."

She lowered her eyes, schooling kept her from staring at him. He was a nice looking man, older than her but not too old. His eyes unnerved her.

"You have paint on your hand," she said politely.

"So I'm told." He wiggled his fingers. "But it doesn't come off."

Something had dawned on Lecta.

"You painted these?" she gasped.

"Yes."

"But how?"

He shuffled back to his chair, feeling it with his fingers before sitting down. "I don't know."

She turned back to the paintings with a new appreciation. She was not a worldly person, but enjoyed books with photographs. She recognized scenes from the lands of Clavats, Selkies and Lilties, to everywhere in between.

"How do you know what color to use?"

"It just comes." He picked up a small empty bowl. "What color is your hair?"

"Yellow."

"That's not enough. Describe it."

She mulled over this. "My Father says it's the color of spun gold." She giggled. "But I've never seen spun gold, if there is such a thing."

"What do you think it looks like?"

"Like wheat, just before harvest. My sister's hair is like honey right from the hive, but mine is more like rich sweet dough before baking."

As she spoke, he pulled small amounts of paints into the bowl. He mixed it, then smeared a stroke across the canvas. It was the shade of her hair.

Before she could exclaim over it, her sister came into the booth.

"Lecta!" she said, a note of aggravation in her voice. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Look at these paintings Lesslee. He paints them even though he can't see!"

Lesslee drew her sister towards the front of the booth. "That is because he is a Crystal Bearer, Lecta," she hissed into her ear. "We must leave."

Lecta was torn. A Crystal Bearer? "Just a moment," she stammered.

Lesslee walked out of the booth in irritation.

Lecta had heard stories of how dangerous Crystal Bearers were, but she couldn't bring herself to see it in this man. She knew her parents were going to hear about this from Lesslee when they got back, but she didn't leave.

"What's your name?" she asked him softly.

"Eamon." He smiled at her. She found herself smiling back.

"Could I come back and visit you?"

"I'd like that."

She had one more question. "Were you...born like that?"

"What part?" He smiled again. "The blindness, or being a crystal bearer?"

"Both."

"No. Being blind came from a childhood illness. The crystal mark came after that."

Good, Lecta thought to herself. You can't be born a crystal bearer.


	9. Returning Home

Word Count: 744

Character: Layle

Returning Home

* * *

The small cruise ship docked at a large tourist town on the shore of Clavat territory. Unlike the warm sand beaches of the Selkies, the water was crisp and crashed upon rocks.

*.*

Layle was on the other side of the world. It was ironic it was where he had started.

Not at this large, bustling city, but in small village a few miles away. He decided to walk instead of hitching a ride on a passing wagon. As he traveled, his fine spun clothes stood out among the hand woven clothing the farmers wore in this area.

*.*

He stopped when he came to the house. It was small, white clapboard, with nice shingles on the roof. Layle nodded in approval. By the way it was being kept up; he knew they still lived here.

But it still took him a few minutes to step forward and knock on the door.

His mother opened the door. Almost a decade older than he remembered, her face only had a few extra lines. Her hair was still the same shade of blonde, with the curl that always aggravated him in his own hair.

She looked him up and down. "Well, you look like you've done well for yourself." Her voice was soft and sweet, but there was a note in it, like a fruit going sour.

She turned around and went in. Layle followed, shutting the door behind him.

"I've heard stories," she said. "Are you still a wanted man?"

"Not quite." His eyes took in the small main room. The furniture was well made, and there were thick rugs on the floor. Yes, they were doing fine. He still gave her the small bag of coins he had brought. He knew she would appreciate it more than a touch.

She smiled stiffly. "He's in the side room. Careful, sometimes he will not take visitors."

Layle nodded.

The side room was well lit, as he remembered. Canvases lined the walls. Some painted, some not, and some in between.

It was the reason why his mother could live comfortably. It was the room of an artist; scenes of all over the world graced the walls.

Except, his father, in all matters of the word, was blind.

"Who's there?" his father said. He sat in the middle of the room. Paint, brushes and a large canvas on an easel were in front of him.

"Go away, too busy." The man, who was many years older than his wife, selected a brush and paint, without looking at them. Layle could see the crystal mark across the five fingertips of one hand, like they had been dipped in silver paint.

"Then I will go," Layle said.

"Wait." The man turned, his wide staring eyes seemed to be searching.

"Layle?"

Layle came forward and dropped to one knee. His father reached out and felt the slightly rougher skin of the crystal mark on his cheek.

"It is you. The world mourns like you are dead!"

"I was searching for something."

"Did you find it?"

"I don't know," Layle said quietly.

"You always wanted to be a hero Layle. From the stories I've heard, I think you found that."

"But what comes after the fight?"

"Why must there always be something?"

"I'm a crystal bearer."

"So am I." The man gestured to the paintings he could not see. "What is my use? To make paintings of places I've never seen, bringing joy to others and providing for my family? That is enough for me. What is enough for you?"

*.*

Layle sank down. Memories of people and places swirled in his head. Near misses of death - times when he would have welcomed it, and times when his mind cried out, "Not yet!" The people who had touched his life, for good, bad, or indifferent... Belle, Cid, Keiss, Althea, Blaze, Amidatelion, Jegran, even Vaigali.

"I just want to be enough for the people I care about," Layle said finally.

"Perhaps you already are," his father said mildly, "But they cannot tell you since you run from them."

Layle took a deep breath. He was ready.

"How is mother?" he asked.

"She is the same. Marrying a crystal bearer and having one as a son was always difficult for her. But she is proud of you, she just doesn't show it."

As Layle went to leave, his father said, "You could write occasionally. Your mother would read them to me."

Layle smiled. "I'll try."


	10. The Stitching Circle

Word Count: 374

* * *

Althea hated embroidery, she decided as she pulled out yet another wrong stitch. The other women in the stitching circle accused her of being quiet, but she didn't understand how they chatted away while stitching without messing up their work.

*.*

There were only a few things she couldn't stand about being a queen, and the stitching circle was one of them. Compiled of all ranks of noblewomen, it was a bunch of useless gossip. She could learn more about the day's going-ons in five minutes from the castle cook. But to not show up guaranteed the gossip to be about her, so she stayed. She put her hoop and fabric down and focused on the conversation.

*.*

"Pells said they are much faster than Chocobos because they have four legs! They are from the island across the sea, and he's going to start importing them."

"Sounds like he's pulling your curls Ola." Another girl sniffed. "Nothing could replace the Chocobo."

"I bet they are just another breed of cow. Nobody is going to start riding cows!" One of the younger women piped up.

Althea sighed. Useless.

"Sesslar," one of the elder women, whose name was Tiffi, announced, "Has proposed to a Clavat woman."

Appreciative murmurs rippled through the group, thankful for some interesting information.

"Is she moving here, or is he leaving?"

"I don't know yet," Tiffi said smugly. "I'll keep you informed."

"Lilties marrying out of the tribe," a woman about Althea's age exclaimed. "Who would have thought?"

Sesslar was a good colonel. Althea would hate to see him go. She picked up her handiwork.

The girl named Ola spoke again. "I've met Sesslar's fiancé. Remember? She's the one with the little sister with the tall tale about the flyaway hat."

"Oh yes," Tiffi said. "She said that the wind caught her hat when they were on the cruise, and a young man used a blue light to stop it in midair for her. How silly -"

Althea jumped up, her hoop falling to the floor with a clatter.

"He's alive!" She gasped. She was out the door in an instant, leaving the women with gaping mouths.

After a pause, Tiffi finally said, "She has always been a little excitable like her mother."


	11. Coming Back

Word Count: 349

Coming Back

* * *

Keiss stood with his forehead pressed to the window. He was tired of the rain. An occasional shower was acceptable. Three days downpour was not. The winds were so strong he was concerned that the grounded ship that held the Guild quarters was going to be picked up and taken back to the sea.

And, the rain kept the pests in.

Belle sat at the writing desk, feet propped up on the desk and the chair tilted back.

He knew her tactics. She figured if she aggravated him enough, he would let her borrow his airship again.

It was working.

"Belle, you could not even get off the ground in this weather. Could you just drop it today?"

"But we have a new lead, this letter from Althea..."

Althea had sent a copy to both Keiss and Belle. Like she thought he wouldn't mention it to Belle if only he had received it.

"You've been following leads for months."

She sighed. "I know."

The truth was, Keiss wanted to up and go look for Layle too. He just didn't want to face the idea it would be a waste of time.

Footfalls could be heard coming down the hallway. Good, a distraction.

Belle leaned farther back to see who was coming. She gasped and toppled over backwards.

Keiss snorted when he heard her fall. He had asked her to stop leaning earlier. A remark died on his lips when the reflection in the window showed who had walked in.

The crystal mark on the man's cheek glinted in the reflection.

"Did anyone miss me?" Layle asked.

Bell untangled herself from the chair and Keiss spun around.

"Just a little," Keiss said with a small smile.

"Belle stood up, straightened her clothes, and strode over to Layle. He caught her hand just before she slapped him.

"You, you..." She sputtered. "Missed you? I thought you were dead!" She wailed. "You even could have just sent a letter!"

"I've heard I'm bad at that," Layle managed to get out before she wrapped herself around him and pulled him into a kiss.


	12. Don't Ask How

Word Count: 450

Character: Keiss

Prompt: Keiss sends Layle a letter in the game: _Vaigali is going to come. Don't ask me how I did it. _But how did he do it?

* * *

Keiss stretched out on one of the benches in the palace garden. He had fifteen minutes of downtime to think this through.

Trying to arrange a meeting with a man who has sworn to kill you, he thought, turns out to be rather difficult.

Information from the Selkie guild is important, Keiss reminded himself. And life was getting boring. That could be the only reason he would decide to get Vaigali to come to the Liltie kingdom to view the new train.

Keiss ran down his mental list of options. He could not send Vaigali a letter personally; it would have to come from Layle or another source. The only mail that Vaigali would actually read from Keiss was if he was offering the time and location for Vaigali to carry out the death threats.

And the main question was, what would the letter say?

Maybe it would have been easier to have Cid take the train to the Selkies instead. No, scratch that idea. Once the train was on Selkie property, Vaigali would just decide it was his, had been his for some time, and just why was Layle looking for information at this time?

Besides, Cid was just as stubborn as Vaigali. He wouldn't set foot on Selkie soil.

*.*

Something prodded Keiss in the shoulder. He propped himself up on his elbow and glared at Lackson. The Liltie grinned, a riding crop in one hand.

"Are you riding with us tomorrow?" Lackson asked.

"No, thank you." The last time they had almost crowded his chocobo off the side of a cliff.

"Too bad. We were even going to give you a parachute this time."

Keiss sat up. An idea had crossed his mind. "I know you enjoy our friendly rivalry, Lackson."

"Yes, very much."

"Have you ever played dare?"

"As a child." Lackson's eyes narrowed.

"I dare you, to tell Guildmaster Vaigali to his face, that the main reason he will not enter the kingdom is because he is afraid he will grow little wings like the Lilties."

"To his face?"

Keiss nodded.

Lackson tapped his helmet with his crop. "Fine, but I must enter a counter dare. That you will be there when he steps off the train platform."

"I can do that."

Lackson's eyebrows shot up. He must not have expected Keiss to agree so readily.

*.*

Three days later, Lackson returned from his dare, which he had not mentioned to anyone. White as a ghost, but still in one piece, he stopped Keiss in the hallway.

"He'll be there." Lackson said.

*.*

_Vaigali is going to come. Don't ask me how I did it._ Keiss wrote to Layle.

The true story was just too ridiculous to explain.


End file.
